


And So The Feeling Grows

by widgenstain



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Ableist Language, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Ambiguity, Arranged Marriage, BAMF Charles, BAMF Erik, Enthusiastic Consent, Erik has a boner for powers, Everyone is a mutant, Genderfuck, Implied Mpreg, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genosha’s fallen sovereign is going to be married off to the noble Colonel Xavier to seal the peace treaty between the two realms. There is no room for feelings in such unions, but what if they still arise?</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So The Feeling Grows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistralle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistralle/gifts).



> I tried to keep to the (AWESOME!) prompt as close as I could but decided to throw the societal aspect of the Alpha/Omega trope overboard and only use the fun-new-ways-of-baby-making biology. YAY! 
> 
> Instead of alphas and omegas most of the population falls under these four sexes:  
> Onyes (Charlotte, like female alphas)  
> Kizhis (Erik, like male omegas)  
> Eniyans (Scott, like male alphas)  
> Asmuos (Raven, like female omegas). 
> 
> This society makes no difference when it comes to what's between your legs and procreation works similar to real life seahorses. One party lays the eggs, the other fertilises them and carries the babies.
> 
> This is partially unbetaed and I apologise for all the mistakes that are left. All my love to lachatblanche who sorted out the English in the first parts.

Abigail asked Erik if he was nervous.

Nervous. As if. He wasn’t a silly, 15-year old blushing virgin scared of his first night in a wedding bed.

He was legitimately worried.

He knew Colonel Xavier distantly and of course they had dealt with each other during the Crises. But peace negotiations over long tables with a plethora of his people at his side and a telepathy shielding helmet on his head was slightly different from spending the rest of his life with someone. Someone he hadn’t seen eye-to-eye in decades, someone he could not assess for the life of him and someone who could see his innermost secrets with one glance and would probably use them against him in a second.

He had legitimate reason to believe that Colonel Charlotte Xavier was no longer the innocent child he remembered playing with sticks at Shaw’s castle when he himself had only been a lanky teenager. For all he knew, she had grown up to be just as vicious and cold-hearted as Her Iciness.

The two shared their gift, and while High Constable Frost was the stronger telepath, she couldn’t have betrayed and overthrown Shaw - may his name be cursed - the way she had without cunning Xavier’s help… or so they said. As glad as Erik had been that the bastard was finally dead, he’d been just as furious that he hadn’t got a chance to kill him himself.

Unfortunately, the vacuum Shaw’s reign of collective terror left behind could not easily be filled. With several fractions breaking away and attempting to force through their own rule, it had taken Frost seven years to restore the realm to its former size and glory.

All Erik had ever wanted was to not be a part of it. He’d wanted to keep Genosha away from the conflicts but even he had to admit to himself that that plan had never had a chance. He’d managed to keep his hereditary lands independent for a very long time, though, and it had been one of the last bastions to fall. Well, fall was the wrong term. He and his troops had never directly fought Emma’s army; it had been more of a slow crumbling process that was finalised by the deserting of Erik’s ensign, the traitor Raven Darkholme.

In any case, he was a prisoner now, with his keeper, a foul-mouthed soldier named Abigail always at his side. He was allowed to move freely through the halls of Emma’s castle - there was no cell, no one beat or chained him - but the green-haired shadow followed him everywhere, no matter how often he resignedly swore that he wouldn’t run. He couldn’t run. Running would destroy even the tiny chance he saw in the current developments.

Besides his hopefully temporary imprisonment, the peace treaty between Genosha and Doresain included a marriage to one of the high-ranking nobles at Emma’s court, binding the countries together, not only by ink but also by blood. Her Highness’ choice had, of course, to conclude Erik’s bitter reminiscent turn of thought, fallen on her close friend and advisor, Colonel Xavier.

Erik watched the cloaked figures riding up the slope and sighed.

“Are you ready?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, not really.”

Abigail gave him a pat on the back that could have been interpreted as sympathy or an attempt to lighten his spirit but Erik didn’t have it in him to appreciate it. He moved away from the window and down to the end of the magnificent Great Hall of Emma’s newly renovated and enlarged castle. The thick woollen cape he slung over his shoulders kept the March winds at bay, as he went outside into the large courtyard to await his future mate on the steps.

 

The first rider approaching was without a coat since his thick blue fur kept him warm in any weather. Dr McCoy, inventor of so many of the machines that facilitated Colonel Xavier’s military strategies and a fearsome opponent on the actual battlefield. He greeted Erik with a nod before he dismounted his enormous steed and steered it out of the way for an approaching, much smaller horse with the lightest gait, even on the cobblestone of the courtyard. Erik couldn’t see the rider’s face due to the yellow-blue hood covering the head but the fact that she waited until the rest of her party had arrived and that Dr McCoy came to assist her to get off the horse was clue enough, and Erik was reminded of the reason why he had only ever seen her at the negotiation tables, never in the actual field. A long black walking stick in hand, she moved towards the entrance where Erik was waiting, walking unevenly but with a distinctive poise that was taught to the high and noble from early age. The metal pins in her artificial leg were small but Erik could feel them nonetheless. At the bottom of the stairs she looked up and Erik felt a ripple of surprise. She smiled. Warm and amicably.

“How lovely of you to wait for me at the gates. Just like a mate would for his significant other.”

Irritation came even quicker to Erik than surprise did.

“I can guarantee you that it was not my intention to imply anything of the sort. Her Ici… Her Majesty the High Constable Frost is currently engaged in a number of negotiations and can’t find time to welcome every visitor, not even the ones as close to her as you are. I merely thought it proper court etiquette not to leave you out alone in the drizzle.”

“Erik Lehnsherr… worried about court etiquette…”

She extended her hand for a shake, a gesture amongst equals and Erik bristled but took it anyway. The smile that had dimmed a little at his explanation lit up again and Erik’s irritation deepened.

Charlotte Xavier wore a rich trader’s attire with her dark brown hair plaited into two thick, practical braids. Simple and unassuming. Together with her soft looking, youthful face, the blushed-from-the-cold cheeks and that smile, she could have fooled plenty of people, but not Erik. This was one of the beneficiaries in High Constable Emma’s raise to power. Someone who pulled the strings upstage. He didn’t know how much she had been involved - no one did, they had been turbulent times - but her large, intense eyes didn’t just _seem_ like they could see right through him. And it wasn’t as if he could stop her either, not with Shaw’s helmet irrevocably destroyed. He’d nevertheless sworn himself to stay guarded around her as best as he could, no matter if she looked like a sweet and simple burghers’ child. Erik let go of the small but strong, _(warm)_ hand and cleared his throat.

“Right. Well, I think it is time I get settled here. How long have you been staying at court, Lieutenant Lehnsherr? I hope you are treated well?”

She gestured for a servant with white wings to start unpacking the mules. As far as Erik was informed, the festivities were supposed to be kept at a minimum; they shouldn’t take much longer than two days, and tradition commanded a newly mated couple to return to the higher ranking family’s seat within the Scenting period. What need was there for all those boxes?

“I was brought here four weeks ago. And yes, I am. Her Highness has treated me as well as any prisoner could be treated.”

Erik’s phrasing caused a flicker in the bright eyes but Colonel Xavier didn’t respond to it. Instead she turned and said in, to Erik’s ears, a disconcertingly light tone:

“Four weeks. That is quite some time. I do hope you were able to take a look at the rather fascinating collection of manuscripts in the library? There are excellent works on the sea fauna on site. Not so much on crop cycles though, so I have decided to stock it up with copies of my own collection.” She patted her hips as if she’d carried them here bound to them.

  
Books. That explained why the winged servant struggled with the large chest. Erik had indeed spent quite some time in the library, but he had been more fascinated by the historical recordings which were so different from the ones he was used to. Not different in a bad way though, just … different.

However, he saw a misguided attempt at idle chit-chat when he was confronted with one, and he was not going to indulge it.

“Interesting. Unfortunately I have some other business to attend to today and I fear I might be needed inside, so if you could join me there…”

“Of course.”

Colonel Xavier shook her head with a practised, disappointment-concealing smile.

“I also have business to attend to. If you don’t mind though, I would appreciate it if you and I could sit together at the dinner table tonight. If it can’t be arranged, however … then I guess we will see each other tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. 11 o’clock. His second wedding day.

“I guess so too.” He took the appropriate bow and waited until Colonel Xavier turned around and left towards the guest quarters, her braids swinging with her stuttering step. When she turned around the corner Erik exhaled what felt like a breath held for the whole duration of their discussion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

In the end Erik did join Colonel Xavier at the dinner table - as did the rest of the court - and the two of them exchanged meaningless pleasantries under the watchful and highly amused eye of the High Constable. Erik was aware of the humiliation he was supposed to experience. He’d been the enemy, a sovereign who came from nameless blood, a leader with an extremely powerful gift he could exert like no one else, who refused to bow and play along with Frost’s plan for a new, 'better' realm under her rule. But now he had been conquered and tamed by ruse and intrigue instead of brutish iron strength. The favoured tools of Her Iciness. The final leash that was put around his neck was this marriage. A marriage to the High Constable’s childhood friend. To a cripple who didn’t even get honourably crippled in battle. Whose gift would ensure that Erik never thought of rebellion or ruling his own people independently ever again.

Erik, however, refused to surrender belly-up the way she wished to see. He was no fool and while this was a setback it didn’t mean defeat. As much as he had burned for vengeance ever since the day Shaw, - may his legacy turn to dust - had attacked his parents’ house, and as bitterly he had fought Trask’s - cursed be his strain - army of brainwashed monsters, he always had intended to find peace for his people. Not for himself necessarily, but a place for the clans to roam freely and for what little remained of his parents’ folk to live in peace. He still believed that his rule would be the best way to warrant this but the terms he had negotiated with the High Constable should ensure that too, at least for a little while. His fiancée was known for her immense wealth, so if he played his cards right, he could still follow through with his vision of a free Genosha. The process would be slower and on the field of devious diplomacy - which he admittedly was not too familiar with and tired of easily– but it was possible. If that meant he had to marry a one-legged, telepathic onye in front of everyone and bear what very likely would be more telepathic children to continue a line of a House he didn’t care for, he could manage.

When he put down his glass of wine and looked to his right he saw Colonel Xavier’s eyes focused on him. Frost’s new consort, a bland looking young eniyan who had the misfortune of carrying the Summers family’s gift for red laser beams in his eyes, used to be in Colonel Xavier’s service and now was animatedly talking to her. She paid him polite attention but her eyes kept coming back to Erik’s. How deep in his head was she exactly? Erik conjured up images of steel doors closing and glowing red letters that spelled “Stay out”. Not a sufficient way to ward off any telepath but Colonel Xavier flinched nonetheless. Erik grinned but once again was hit with irritation when he saw Colonel Xavier smile back, impishly and far more entertained than he would have liked.

 

 

The day of the wedding ceremony started out very calm and ordinary. Erik was bathed and scrubbed by the valets in his service and Janos laid out his garments. They were provided by Her Highness and were far more luxurious than anything he owned. Loosely layered grey silk trousers, hemmed with maroon braids and a grey, sleeveless, knee-length surcoat which was heavily embroidered with Erik’s maroon coat of arms.

Only a surcoat though. The deep cuts at the side of the garment revealed a good portion of Erik’s long, naked torso underneath. Something like this would have been considered highly inappropriate in Genosha but it was the preferred wedding garment for noble kizhis in the capital. He wasn’t shy and was quite proud of the fact that he didn’t need the assistance of a bodice to achieve the en vogue lean and triangular shape, but the initial motivation behind this fashion offended him: one could not hide even the tiniest swell of pregnancy in it. Erik understood the notion that no one wanted to marry someone carrying the child of another line, but the thought, the assumption that he would even consider to do something like that enraged him.

Alas, there was no way around. Slightly appeased, he noted that Colonel Xavier’s wedding garment didn’t look less revealing either. She wore the same trousers in yellow and a long, dark-blue surcoat with a V neck that reached all the way down to her sternum. Also highly inappropriate in Genosha – Magda had married him in a thick, colourful jacket. Onyes of the capital wore clothes like these to show off their breasts that allowed them to lactate synchronically with their spouse and thus provide the eventual babies with plentiful and more reliable nourishment. Her hair was tied up with a silver ribbon and her eyes gleamed when he came to sit next to her at the writing desk. Erik couldn’t begrudge her the excitement: she was getting married for the first time, plus he figured that he looked rather fetching in the provided garments.

The ceremony itself was kept more than simple and therefore true to what it was: a political arrangement, with no room for love or sentimentality. They both signed the contract drawn up by a Doresian windbag of a notary, Erik with his full name in large, elegantly curved letter, Colonel Xavier with something that looked like chicken scratch. Then they walked out of the small office hand in hand, went once around the patio where the first flowers started to bloom on the lee side for good luck, down into the festively prepared Great Hall and sat down at the end of the table next to each other where they immediately let go of their clenched fingers.

The banquet held for them wasn’t an affair the people would talk about for weeks either. A simple lunch, free food for the poor, dance in the afternoon and a more generous dinner at night. The musicians playing were very talented though, and Erik spent most of the time listening to the flute player whose gift _had_ to be an additional set of lungs, nodding along more to the music than to the formal well-wishes of the guests.

Then a blue-scaled figure approached the table and Erik froze. Raven Darkholme was at his wedding banquet. To say that they hadn’t parted on the best terms was an immense understatement. The scar from the oaken dagger on his upper arm proved that. In all fairness, it was he who had tried to kill her first, but he reached out for the silverware nonetheless. Colonel Xavier’s hand suddenly was on his forearm and she stood up, building a barrier between him and the asmuo, -- spit on her name, -- who had deceived him.

“Raven. How nice of you to come.”

What was happening? Why did they talk to each other in such a familiar tone? Why was she even allowed in?

“Colonel Xavier, may this day be the beginning of a fruitful union and may your house grow in glory and prosperity. You also look amazing in this tunic. Erik…”

She turned to him and as Erik brows furrowed deeply the light expression disappeared from her face.

“Erik, I’m…”

Colonel Xavier’s hand reached out for Erik’s arm again but this time he had to fight the impulse to draw it away immediately.

“Erik, I regret I didn’t tell you before but Raven Darkholme is a regular guest at Westchester. She and her mate are irreplaceable in my businesses and dear friends as well. I am aware of your history and since as of today Westchester is your home too, you have equal say in who you want to see come and go. I will conform to your decision, although I beg of you not to make it just yet.”

Erik was torn between blurting out a profanity and telling his new mate in concise words how offensive he thought it was that the person who effectively had made him a prisoner showed up at the wedding he had been forced into. Or shout “Mate?!” since the Raven Darkholme he knew before would never have married anyone.

But there was something in Charlotte Xavier’s eyes that kept him from doing so.

It wasn’t pleading like he would have expected; it was a tranquillity that made him focus on what she had just said. _His home_. Yes, by law half of Colonel Charlotte Xavier’s properties belonged to him now, but in practice a gap in wealth and lineage like theirs, one would assume some amendments were to be made. Did she actually mean it? And what did it say about his new mate that she was friends with one of the few people Erik had let past the walls he had built around himself and come so close that it actually had hurt when she hit him?

Erik nodded.

“We will not discuss this here.”

Erik quite certainly would not discuss this elsewhere either because if Colonel Xavier thought that his opinion could be easily swayed by talks and some late apologies she was mistaken. Raven knew this, judging by the apprehensive look in her yellow eyes.

“Very well, this went less awkwardly than I thought it would…”

Colonel Xavier smiled brightly again and the more often Erik saw her smile the more positive he became that it was genuine.

“Charlotte, I…”

“No no, Raven, enough of this. How does pregnancy treat you?”

Raven Darkholme’s face brightened and she touched a swell Erik hadn’t seen before under her loose dress.

“So far so good. I still get nauseous every time we teleport --” _Teleport?!_ “-- but at least I can keep my food down. It still feels weird though, to imagine I will be a parent before you are.” A dust of a pink blush crept to Colonel Xavier’s cheeks and she clearly avoided looking at Erik.

“Yeah. Who would have thought?”

This was something they had to discuss at a later point too, he guessed. Something that would not be as easily done with as his adamant resentment of Raven Darkholme.

 

The sun set, Her Highness left after a short appearance with her plain eniyan in tow, the music died down and the guests started to stumble to their quarters. Colonel Xavier and Erik went to the specifically for them prepared suite almost unnoticed. The room was warm and there were rich furs heaped upon the dark, forbiddingly looking four-poster bed. Erik was tired, worn out from the court life and all its ridiculousness over the past weeks. He would very much appreciate it if they spent their first night of the Scenting period by simply sleeping next to each other. This period of getting to know each other carnally and laying claim by bathing in the scent of the partner was a supposed to be a wonderful time of silliness and pleasure. And it really _was_ for the classes that could allow themselves love-matches. In arranged marriages like the one he was in now, it was a period of awkward talks and unappreciated groping, only finished by the first mated heat when they could finally get it over with and procreate. In their case it should take them around 20 days.

Erik shook off his surcoat while Colonel Xavier was in the small washing cabinet at the back wall. He took off his trousers too but decided to leave on his undergarments before he climbed into the bed.

“Which side do you prefer?”

“Hm? Oh, the right one. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes it is.” Erik did in fact prefer the left side so that part at least posed no problem. The next one, however… Colonel Xavier returned completely naked.

Her body was compact and pear-shaped. There were defined muscles beneath the pale skin but she was softer, rounder than Magda and her sharp angles had ever been. And then, down from the triangle of dark, curly hair, one of the thick strong thighs ended right before where there would have been a knee. The prosthesis attached to it was made of wood, leather straps and delicate metal pins. Quite the intricate work. Colonel Xavier didn’t, or at least pretended not to notice his staring when she sat down on the bed to unbuckle her leg. The carved cup that held the stump was lined with linen and Erik, quite out of the blue, wondered if it chafed from time to time. She carefully leaned the artificial limb next to the bed and then rolled in close to Erik.

She’d loosened her hair in the cabinet, and it now hung over her right shoulder, long and healthy, covering one of her full, pointy, heavy-looking breasts. He had avoided smelling her too much in the last 24 hours -- it would have appeared rather vulgar and desperate to him, especially since he didn’t think it necessary to have a sexual interest in his spouse for things to work out the way he wanted them to. But up close he could not deny it. Her smell was pleasant. Undeniably an onye, dry and tangy, but definitely not a smell he was averse to smelling on his own skin.

Erik hadn’t lived celibately after Magda’s death. He had had his fair share of lovers, some of them exquisitely beautiful and talented in bed as well. But whether due to the circumstances or out of a simple lack of interest, he hadn’t been with someone else in quite a while. So suddenly he found himself sitting on the same bed as a reasonably attractive human being and he could feel his mouth go dry when she lay back, her head looking at him with those expressive, eerily attentive eyes.

“About before, when Raven came to our table. I really do feel we should discuss a number of things.”

Was this the point where she talked about babies?

“Not just our potential future children. I guess this is something one is supposed to talk about in the first night of Scenting but to be honest, I do feel it is too presumptuous a topic for our situation. However, and I sincerely regret we couldn’t have this conversation earlier, I want you to know that I wish us to be honest with each other. We’re legally bound, we’ll have to work with each other. My home will be yours as will yours be mine. Our businesses will merge and our interests should at least align to some degree. For this to work we’ll need honesty and some sense of openness.”

Erik crossed his arms and sank deeper into his pillow.

“Talk is cheap. I couldn’t lie to you, even if I wanted to.”

“I am not Her Majesty.”

Her voice was unexpectedly sharp and with a new, hitherto-unheard steel to it. Erik eyed her suspiciously as she drew a breath and continued firmly:

“I do not enter minds unasked and I do not manipulate them unless there is no other option left. I am not that kind of person. If you want me to stay out, I will. I do have very good control of it but even I can’t guarantee you that I won’t catch the occasional stray thought. Just like you can’t stop sensing the metal around you. I cannot turn my gift off because people feel uncomfortable around it.”

Erik would never ask such a thing, no one could turn off their gift. Not him, not blue-haired Dr McCoy nor Matey, the boy with breath that smelled like a forgotten cesspool. But Colonel Xavier wasn’t the first telepath Erik had met and in his experience the stereotypes were true: they were unreliable and tricky. For example, he couldn’t tell if her nakedness beneath the soft furs was a sign of great confidence or a way to distract him from asking questions he needed answers to. Or both.

“Okay. Tell me though, since I have always wondered about this, in the spirit of openness, did or did you not influence Raven’s decision to defect?”

“No I didn’t.”

Erik huffed and he stared at the ceiling of the bed.

“But, in the spirit of openness, she didn’t desert you at the drop of a hat for someone she didn’t know either. She never told you, I know, but we grew up together. One of her parents was the steward of mine. We’re not exactly siblings but we’ve known each other for a very long time. We had our difficulties but I never stopped trusting her and she learned to trust me again.”

“What difficulties?”

Charlotte Xavier sighed and rubbed her face.

“Miscommunication. I thought I loved her like a sibling. She thought I tried to be a parent to her. For a while, when she was just starting her heats, she didn’t love me like a sibling _or_ a parent and I was too distracted by war and frankly, too ignorant to see it.”

Erik had never asked were Raven came from. He had just assumed her to be a victim of Shaw’s rule like everyone else in his troops. He had no idea if what his mate just told him was true or not, but it would explain a few things he had noticed before Raven’s departure. The sentimentality. The dissatisfaction with the constant change of encampment. And the accusations that he ignored her input like a sibling would.

“So Azazel…? They always fought. This makes absolutely no sense.”

Colonel Xavier snorted very uncouthly and the tense mood melted into something slightly more comfortable.

“Don’t ask me, I didn’t see it coming either. But they do seem to be happy.”

“Why didn’t you marry her? You obviously care for each other and a steward’s child from the same court would have been perfectly acceptable.”

“Maybe.”

Erik couldn’t decipher the emotion in her voice for the life of him.

“It doesn’t matter. Life’s course is mysterious to most of us and we are here now. This is what counts.”

She patted his naked chest tentatively and Erik decided to let her since it wasn’t unpleasant. For a while no one spoke and as time ticked away, Erik could hear her breath become longer and more regular. She’d fallen asleep; her face, even more youthful when relaxed like this, turned towards him and her hand lay still on his chest. Before Erik could ponder if he should remove it for the night, he’d fallen asleep as well.

 

* * *

 

 

He dreamt of the time his parents took him to the cloth market. In reality it had been a crowded place, reeking of the dyer’s alleys close by, and noisy too when the vendors tried to outscream each other. But in his dream it turned into the vision it had been for his ten-year old self. Bright colours, patterns so vivid they looked like they were about to come alive and materials he had never touched before. Silk, velvet, satin and this one patch of wool from an animal unknown to him that was softer than anything he had ever felt before. In his dream it smelt of sunbeams, dry leaves and something inherently good. It couldn’t be, the wool had faintly smelled of sheep but when the dawn teased open his eyes he realised what he had smelled instead of the piece of cloth. The back of Charlotte Xavier’s head was only inches away from his face, her hair brushed his chest and it was her smell he breathed in. During the night they had crept closer, until he sheltered her in the concave of his body.

Carefully, Erik disentangled himself from the embrace and slid to the washing cabinet to clean his teeth. When he came back Colonel Xavier already had buckled her leg back on and put on a robe. They didn’t talk much during breakfast but Erik got the impression that this wasn’t due to any awkward feelings on his mate’s part, but her being not a morning person in general. Plus they had to hurry and pack their belongings - which in Erik’s case were two small trunks - if they wanted to reach their first stop on the way to Westchester before nightfall. After lunch and a quick formal audience with Her Majesty they were ready to leave.

Abigail had been handed over into Erik’s service, officially as a bodyguard but Erik was quite sure that her main duty was to spy for Emma Frost. His annoyance, however, was almost forgotten when for the first time in weeks he was able to get on the back of a horse and leave the damned capital on its damned picturesque hill behind. They took a leisurely speed, one which Erik quite relished even if he couldn’t really explain why they took this mode of transport. If it was true that Colonel Xavier and Azazel were on good terms, he could have teleported them right back. When they unsaddled, for what had to be the seventh time so Dr McCoy and Erik’s new spouse could ooh and aah over a hoopoe which apparently hadn’t left over the winter, he walked with them and asked.

“He’s in Wakanda with the leader of the Panther Tribes. Even if he could make the journey back in a few jumps, I have no means to contact him with me. It also would deprive us of this lovely experience. I rather enjoy travelling by horse, don’t you?”

Erik in fact did enjoy _all_ horse related activities. He’d grown up around them, his first mate was the leader of a clan that bred the best animals, and he had probably spent more of his life in a saddle than on his two legs.

“Yes.”

“I like it too. The speed, and the freedom of it.”

She spurred her beautiful, light-gaited Palomino and skilfully rode it to the front of their little convoy. Erik followed her like she apparently had assumed he would, but when she spurred the animal into a canter and they both rode ahead on the road winding its way through fields of reawakening green, the clear and crisp air in his face, he couldn’t bother with a frown.

The sun was low when they finally reached the Dal Riata inn. Without the warming light it had gone cold quickly and Erik was grateful for the warm soup and the comfortable benches. The innkeepers appeared to be used to nobles in their house, and made sure none of the other guests disturbed them in the back room. Their own children on the other hand… When Erik was about to go to bed, a quiver full of children, all with the same dark shining hair, watched him with wide eyes from around a corner.

“They think you are very elegant. And a little scary.” Colonel Xavier joined him on the stairs.

“What?”

Erik wore his old military cape, it was perfect for travelling and while he kept it in mint condition he would never have called it elegant.

“I think so too by the way. Minus the scary part.” She smiled and opened the door to their room for them.  
Erik ignored the compliment in favour of checking the amenities. The room was small and the furniture and wall hangings rather terrible but that was to be expected from a rural inn. And it definitely beat sleeping in ditches like he had during so many nights. It was clean and the cook’s gift for heating stones by touch, gave the room a cosy warmth.

“Would you like something like this too?” Colonel Xavier asked when she started undressing.

“What? An embroidered portrait of my ancestors?” Erik pointed at the truly hideous cross-stitch on the wall.  
Colonel Xavier laughed a warm laugh.

“No. A brood of children.”

Oh. They had reached this point quicker than he had though they would. To win time Erik fiddled with the broach of his cape.

“I already have a child,” he finally said. As the underage official heir, Anya lived with his late mate’s family like the Calderash clan traditions commanded. She had brown hair and had inherited Magda’s low-level gift for sparks and fire. She’d turn ten soon.

“I am aware. Although, the contract we signed yesterday specifically excludes her from my intestacy rules.”

Erik shook his head.

“It’s not about that. What I meant to say is that I’m able to bear children. I’ve done it before, more than once. The 12th leader of Calderash and I had four children. We tried, even if the conditions at the Flying Court were harsh in the last years of Shaw’s reign. They still are harsh. Some winters there is no food, no firewood and no doctors or nurses to be found in miles. I lost two babies to fevers before they turned one. We had to stop another one from being born altogether or _I_ wouldn’t have made it through the winter.”

Colonel Xavier grew very still in the dark of the room. Erik suddenly didn’t find the strength to fully undress and climbed into the bed shirt, socks and undergarments still covering him. He felt naked nonetheless but for some reason he kept talking. Openness. Wasn’t that what Charlotte Xavier wanted? Here was openness for her.

“Anya was the last. I know how bitter I sound when I say it, but I did not expect her to make it. Then Magda fell and I was even more driven to see Shaw destroyed. I was racing from battlefield to battlefield and when Her Highness overthrew him, I did not return to Anya. In all those years, I’ve seen her ten, maybe fifteen times. I am a stranger to her.”  
Colonel Xavier, in an equal state of dress, slipped under the thick duvet next to him.

“Do I _want_ a brood of children? Maybe. I can carry them. But I have been a bad parent to the one who survived already and I cannot imagine how I would treat them if there were more.”

They lay next to each other in silence for a long while. Just when Erik started to wonder if Colonel Xavier might have drifted off he heard her say:

“You had to deal with terrible conditions. They’ve changed now. What happened to Anya and your other children won’t happen again.”  
How could she be so confident? Rolling from his side on his back so he could face her, Erik asked: “Do you want a brood of children?”

“Not a brood. But yes, I want children. I need children. Otherwise my title will go to my step-sibling. We get along nowadays but I still can’t imagine him or any of his blood becoming the Colonel of Westchester.”

Erik hummed at the determination in her voice but she added:

“We don’t have to start immediately though. We can wait. See how you like Westchester and how we like each other.”

“Is comfort always considered important in marriages of the noble and high-born?”

“Not really, but it is important to me.”

Erik looked at her in the dark of their tiny room. Her face was only a black shape with the few rays of moonlight illuminating the locks that framed it. Slowly he took her hand and gently pressed it to his chest like she had the last night before he fell asleep under her tender strokes.

 

* * *

 

 

Like the last morning, they woke up curled around each other. This time they both were awake at the same time and it was Colonel Xavier who slowly broke the sleep-stiff embrace to get ready for another day on horseback.

The landscape began to change around them. The rolling hills that surrounded the capital were vast and beautiful but Westchester was wilder and richer. The earth was dark and fertile, the woods thick and strong and when Erik stretched his gift he could feel traces of the iron ore, the bronze, the silver and the gold buried beneath the slopes of the rising mountains. On the third day of travel they stopped at a clear, rumbling stream to catch trout. It turned into a mostly friendly competition between Erik and Dr McCoy who in contrast to Erik’s spear - improvised from a dagger and his stirrups – used his bare blue paws. Colonel Xavier, Abigail, the winged kizhi who’d turned out be the estranged child of the dishonoured Worthington -- may crows feast on him -- and the rest of their company hooted and cheered them on from the riverbed. Dr McCoy probably caught more fish but Erik’s were less shredded and no one really cared about it anyway when the chef of the next inn prepared the trout in a simple but delicious dinner.

On the eve of the fourth day they finally reached the castle of Westchester. It was bigger than Erik’s stronghold in Genosha by far, but less fortified and he automatically made a mental note to improve this. But the castle would do in spring and summer. Maybe by autumn he could convince his mate to move to Hammerbay where everything was already outfitted to his liking. Preferably he’d move there on his own but if she _wanted_ to come he probably could finally raise the funds to repair some of his family’s former cottages by the sea.

The first thing Erik noticed after the heavy ironbound gate closed behind them was how warm the castle was. After nights in increasingly damp inns this was a pleasant surprise. The second thing he noticed was one of the largest people he’d ever seen coming straight at them. Cain Marko, the Juggernaut, unstoppable once he was in motion; Erik had heard plenty of stories about him and seen the destruction he could cause with his own eyes too. But now he smiled and clasped Colonel Xavier to his gigantic chest affectionately. In Erik’s opinion he was the perfect kizhi. Tall, strong and equipped with a powerful gift that made him even more of a bulwark for any children he might bear. As Colonel Xavier’s stepbrother he was the ruler of his own hereditary lands and a highly decorated Captain. From a dynastic standpoint alone it would have made a lot of sense if he’d become Charlotte Xavier’s mate and Erik remembered reading that if his father had gotten his will, he would have become it too. Erik stepped in making himself as tall as he could and stretched out his hand for a shake that nearly crushed his bones.

“It is nice to finally meet you Lieutenant Lehnsherr. I’ve heard many stories.”

“Not all of them good I suppose.”

“Not all of them favourable, yes, but you are my liege now and it is my pleasure to welcome you in your new home. Please, come with me and have some bread and beer for dinner.”

It really was only bread, beer and some cheese unknown to Erik that looked a little lost on the large, empty table. Erik had been raised in a household where meals were a celebration for a God he’d stopped believing in; then he’d married into a court where food was often scarce and eating had felt like a necessity that kept you from dying. This simplicity by choice was different again and while he chewed on the frankly delicious, rich bread, he decided that he liked it. The beer was smooth and cool which only let him notice the warm air more. There were metal pipes in the thick walls, running criss-cross through the house and they were filled with warm air.

“My parent invented a heating system that uses thermal discharge from the kitchens and the smithy in addition to the hearths. It works well except for a few days in the deepest winter.”

Erik flinched and wondered if Colonel Xavier had actively read his mind for a second, but as it turned out she had stopped talking to her brother for some while and observed him studying the walls.

“You do have an amazing gift.”

Something slimed in his stomach at the comment and he looked down at his hands.

“Well, it was either that or you’re very interested in tapestry. I’ve been told our collection is very beautiful but I’m not an expert in artistry. I think they make for great insulation though.

They really were beautiful. The ones in the room that would be Erik’s after Scenting showed wide grass fields, roamed by exotic animals and simple yet unusual, foreign looking patterns. The room overlooked the courtyard and was situated directly above Colonel Xavier’s room in the keep. Erik found himself liking this room as well. It wasn’t very tidy, there were open books piled on the secretary and trunks pulled to the middle of the room. But the bed was beautifully carved from light wood, the green curtains were expertly sewn and the washing room in the back was spacious enough for a large wooden tub. What caught Erik’s attention most, however, was the linen. There was linen on the bed. Not furs like in the capital where they slept like barbarians despite their wealth. White starched linen with blue gentian embroidered on them. And a large bearskin as a cover, but this was lovely, homey and reminiscent of better times to Erik. Colonel Xavier went into the washing room to clean her teeth and get ready for bed while Erik inspected the bed some more and made his choice.

When he peeled off his clothes this time, he peeled them all off -- including his undergarments -- and laid down on the bed, the high thread count feeling nicer than silk on his skin. There was no shame to it. It was their Scenting period after all, they had to get on with it at some point, and with good strong beer in his belly and bed coverings straight out of his dreams beneath him, it felt only natural.

“Did you find everything to your satisfaction? Oh…” Charlotte Xavier had come back into the room in the middle of rubbing diluted Lavender oil on her joints. When she raked her eyes over Erik’s naked form they grew dark and Erik felt a pleasant shiver along his spine. He had been called vain before but he didn’t take it as in insult. He took care of his body and while time had left its traces upon him, he knew that he was well-formed and pleasing to look at.

Colonel Xavier sat down on the bed wordlessly, working on the buckles of her limb while Erik watched the fine s-slope of her naked, freckled back. The mattress ditched lower when she rolled closer to him, cinnamon on her breath and those iridescent eyes wide and questioning.

It was Erik who took the first step. His fingers in her dark hair, on her temple, down to her white neck. They kissed experimentally, softly and definitely a little awkward but Erik hadn’t kissed anyone in a while so her plump lips felt pleasantly welcome on his. She moved in closer even, her hand on his waist touching his flanks and the lean muscle underneath his prickling skin, while they opened their mouths for each other and for deeper kisses. Erik had missed this. Yes, even the part when their noses smashed and Colonel Xavier grunted into their kiss. She let go of his lips and traced his chin, the line of his jaw, down back to his ear and carefully stopped over his neck. Lying half on top of him, warm and solid, she asked, with a low and a little rough voice:

  
“May I?”

  
Erik nodded and she sunk her nose into the crook where his neck and jaw were joined, taking deep breaths. Erik shivered when she kissed the spot with warm, swollen lips and dragged her tongue over it, tasting him for the first time. His own face was burrowed in the silky hair, her scent filling his lungs too and his body reacted to the sudden change of pace with great interest.

  
It had never occurred to him, but she must have held back the past few days. Her kisses grew fiercer and with the first, slight trace of teeth over the sensitive skin of his neck Erik felt himself stiffen. He dragged her smaller body fully on top of him and started to kiss her back. Nose, tongue and teeth at her long neck where the strong scent of her pheromones gave him the most delightful dizziness. He slung his arms around her tight, heavy body and his hands slowly felt their way down to the strong, fleshy and muscular rump. She gasped, lifted her chest and kissed him on the lips, wet, open and with such desire it rattled Erik’s body. It felt so _good_ , being wanted like this; her warm breasts on his upper body and her hips straddling Erik’s legs.

The oil on her arms was still spreadable so she rubbed some of it on him, carefully avoiding his sensitised nipples before she took them into her mouth and looked up at him through long lashes. First she licked and sucked until they were tight little pebbles and then:

  
“Ow!”

  
Her bite was playful but stung just the right way, which meant it went straight down to Erik’s groin where Colonel Xavier’s soft lower belly rubbed against him. The delicious friction made him drip on the linen and when he grabbed for her full breasts, she sat up, eyes half-closed and a moan on her kiss-swollen lips. Erik wasn’t the only one affected.

  
From the folds between Colonel Xavier’s legs the scape was growing. Flushed pink like her lips, as long as his palm and as wide as two fingers. Tapered and malleable, it was designed to find the good spots inside of him and to drive him wild with lust. His hands shook on her hips as he pressed his groin into its direction and she smiled down at him before she dove into another deep kiss which took his breath away. The slick from the opening where the ovipositor was sheathed in her body let them glide over each other easily, helped along by Erik’s own fluids. When she lowered her hips, successfully aligning them, he bit her fat lower lip giving him the sweetest catch of breath and the most delicious retaliation. She laid down on him, burrowed her face in his neck anew and bit back, sending shivers down Erik’s spine with every bite. He was completely covered in the intoxicating smell of her pheromones and her sex, her weight grounded him on the bed and her hips grinded their exposed flesh against each other.The sweet drag was so much better than his own slicked hand and Erik had to follow it. Moving his hips with hers while he took her face in both hands to kiss her more, and to hide the growing, needy greed in his moans. When he felt a small slicked hand between them he lost the last bit of composure. He thrust into the ring, his hands digging into the cheeks of her bottom, goading her with bites and kisses to her gorgeous white neck and not by long he felt the first signs of his release approaching.

  
“Yes, come on…”

  
“Shhh…shhhh”

Erik made a noise of frustration at this sort of teasing but the hand between them sped up obligingly, pressing her heat hard against his, and set to bring him quick and easy relief.

It came in waves. Groin to spine, groin to head, head to toe. Erik shuddered through his orgasm, mouth open and with eyes fixed on Colonel Xavier’s fascinated, ecstatic face.

She didn’t need much longer, her own mouth going slack and the roll of her hips against Erik’s softening flesh fast and erratic. She came with huff, eyes rolled back and more warm liquid gushed on Erik before she fell forward onto his chest.

They lay like that for a while, the air ripe with their mingled scents and for a few moments Erik felt a lazy, warm, carelessness.

The anticipated awkwardness came soon though, when Colonel Xavier’s searched for his mouth and tried to kiss him sloppily. He indulged her for a while, until she started purring into it and he turned his head away. It was too much a little too soon. She didn’t press further though and gave him a peck on the chin before she let him, not ungently, dislodge her from on top of him. He was _sticky_ , so was she, but in contrast to him she didn’t seem to mind that she spread it over the sheets while she rolled up next to him, smiling all happy and pleased.

  
“That was nice.”

  
“Mhm.”

  
Erik didn’t really trust his voice to say more at this point. It was sex. Good, quick sex and he had been in need for that. Nothing more. He went to the cabinet to get something to clean himself, but mostly not to lie here thinking about what their apparent sexual compatibility meant for their marriage. When he returned, he tried to clean his mate too, but she had fallen asleep, head first down in the pillows.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day surprised Erik by how lively Westchester Castle was. In the evening, when it had only been Marko, Xavier and him it had seemed vast and empty, but in the morning the castle was crowded and buzzing with people and animals. A large number were the typical petitioners asking for road repair or the settlement of a land dispute. But there were children as well, flocking around Dr McCoy and a petite, doe-like teacher.

  
“The children from the settlement get their education here. There used to be a school by the river, but the building was damp and mouldy, so we decided to bring them here. It works better for Moira as well.”

  
Charlotte Xavier accompanied him for a while after breakfast and showed him the main rooms, but when her duties called and her Captain of the Guard, a gruff looking eniyan with spiky hair and a pretty derisive scoff for Erik, took her away, he was joined by another teacher. Armando was affable and cordial so Erik didn’t immediately make the connection, but when Armando’s skin turned scaly as he reached for a still hot loaf of bread, it dawned on him.

  
“You are Armando Munoz, the Invincible… I have heard great tales about you, it is an honour to meet you.”

  
“Oh thank you, my liege. This is such a silly moniker though. There were so many people who claimed to be invincible, Sebastian Shaw – cursed be his name – included. And in the end they weren’t. So I rather not be called like that and join their ranks one day.”

  
Erik could respect that but as they walked past a noisy, well-equipped kitchen which was ruled by a lanky redhead he still had to get it out:

  
“You are a hero of so many battles. The way you saved that company… You should be granted every honour you can think of! I mean, you could be a Colonel yourself!”

  
Armando Munoz laughed.

  
“Maybe. But I chose not to.”

  
“You’re a _teacher_ now…”

  
“I like being a teacher. It’s far more rewarding than any honours could ever be. Plus my mate is in the family way and he’d appreciate it if I stayed in one place instead of hauling him all over the country in a soldier’s tent.”

  
That sounded somewhat familiar to Erik. When he’d married Magda he’d needed the protection her clan could give him. What he liked and didn’t like had never played a matter in their first agreement.

  
“So you do it for love?”

  
“No, this is something I would have chosen even if it weren’t for Alex. These are beautiful lands, my liege. The air is clear, the earth fertile, the livestock thrives and the people see their share of it as well. There were some hard times, like everywhere else, but even when they hit, they didn’t leave as much destruction as they left in other places. After Colonel Xavier wrung Westchester out of Shaw’s grasp, she reformed it in the way her parent had intended to.”

  
Armando pointed at a bunch of farmers who were raggedly dressed like all the other farmers Erik had seen in his life but on closer observation he saw that they looked healthy, well-nourished and, while apparently irritated by how long they had had to travel by cart to get here, in good, hopeful spirits too.

  
“There are large chambers filled with corn for when people need it, doctors for the poor, schools that adapt to the crop cycles and taxes people can afford. It is a good place to raise a family and I prefer to spend my time keeping it this way, or improving it, over blood and politics.”

  
Erik looked at the farmers’ children who eyed him with open fascination and he heard their parents whisper.

  
“Is that him?” “Yes, curtsey, you idiot!” “He’s skinny. And looks old. Why didn’t the Colonel marry someone younger?” “Shhh! Are you out of your mind!? He’s not old. Well not _that_ much older that Colonel Xavier. Oh, he’s looking! Quick, use one of your distractions!”  
What? What were they talking about? Erik was indignant and about to voice it, but strangely enough, Armando took his arm right this moment and side-tracked him with the rather magnificent stables.

 

At night, in bed, his thoughts returned to the scene in the courtyard. Colonel Xavier, after testing the waters carefully and finding no resistance, was idly stroking his belly, tracing the hair leading to his sex with teasingly curious fingers.

  
“Do you think I’m old?”

  
Erik most certainly wasn’t old. He wasn’t a spring chicken like he had been in the beginning of his first marriage, but he wasn’t old. He had lived an eventful life but he felt he had plenty of energy left in him. He wasn’t old, not even in the context of the child-bearing questions. He knew a lot of kizhis and asmuos who still gave birth in their 40s.

  
“What gave you that idea?”

  
“I heard some of the folk talking today… Nevermind. It’s not important.”

  
“It is on your mind so it is important. And no, I don’t need my gift to see that.”

  
“You’re not 30 yet and haven’t been married before. Doesn’t it appear weird to you that Her Majesty chose a mate for you who’s quite a bit older than you are?”

  
The fingers stopped and Colonel Xavier looked up with her big blue eyes. There was a gleam to it Erik hadn’t seen before.

  
“There is nothing weird about it. It’s Emma’s game. It’s _the_ reason why she gave you to me.”

  
“What?”

  
Charlotte Xavier rather disappointedly slid up a little to make talking easier.

  
“Given what we have discovered about the inheritance of gifts so far, the chances that our children will be telepaths as well are relatively high. But you have a very strong gift and in the Royal court’s temple scripts it says that a strong gift within the carrying partner could mean that the giving partner’s gift is overpowered. I am not sure this is exactly true but it is widely believed. Also given your age you probably won’t be pregnant every year for the next 20 years, so there are even less telepaths she has to worry about.”

“She worries?”

“Of course she does. More telepaths means more people who could challenge her directly. Also, despite being a telepath herself, she distrusts our kind like everyone else does. Probably because she knows best. It was a telepath after all who brought Shaw down.”

“This is an outrage! That fake, cold snake… She preached better communication amongst the levels and lines when she ‘unified’ the lands. What a hypocrite!”

“Of some sorts, yes. Erik…”

 _Of some sorts_ … unbelievable. Bah!

She sighed and seemed like she wanted to say something but changed her mind.

“One of the things we teach our children in school, beside counting and writing is to value and control their gifts while respecting and understanding the ones of others.”

That was a nice sentiment. A really nice sentiment. Which of course would not keep the children from finding out as they grew, that whoever was the strongest, ruled. But it was endearing in its naivety.

  
“About your first question though”, Colonel Xavier clearly intended to distract him and dissipate his anger, but there was a cat-like grin on her face that _did_ catch his interest.

  
“Do I think you’re old? Well let me tell you this:

I think,” she kissed Erik’s shoulder. So this was the way they were going.“…you are very fetching, and very attractive--” she stroked his chest and rubbed her nose against his chest hair with a purr “and I am very glad to have you in my bed--” Mouth on his hardening nipples. _(Why did this have to feel so pleasant?_ ) “Because,” kiss to his abdomen “no matter how young or old,” Kisses, licks and nibbles to the skin around his belly button and said with the sultriest of voices “it will be my pleasure to make you gorgeous creature come.”

  
Erik snorted, partly because this was ridiculous, partly because he was ticklish around his bellybutton. But then he spread his legs wide enough to let her get comfortable between them. It took a while, most of it spent by Charlotte Xavier enjoying herself this close to his scent marks and teasing him with nibs and licks, so when she finally swallowed him down, Erik whimpered and twisted the sheets in his grasp.

  
It felt _so_ good. The drive of her slick fingers inside of him better angled than his own ever could be, her tongue wet and warm, sucking on the right spots and when she took him fully in, swallowing him down like it was a delight… Not just pretending so, Erik felt it _was_ a delight to her, quite literally so when the aroused presence spread on the periphery of his perception… Normally he would have rejected any intrusion immediately but this was amazing.

  
His own pleasure built on it exponentially, the shockwaves from where her fingers worked in him became far more intense, like little splashes turning into an ocean that crashed against his crumbling piers. And when she moaned around him, and shoved in deep, everything drew tight and lunged forward at the same time. His fingers clutched the hair of the head buried between his thighs and he shouted out loud, unashamedly as he felt a dam bursting inside of him.

  
When he came down from his high, breathing hard, she crawled up his body, looking for her own release. Erik could feel the question if she should just rub against his chest bloom in his head too, but he would see none of that. As soon as he stopped gasping, he grabbed her, flipped her, ignoring the surprised yelp and sunk his head between the quickly tipping apart thighs. She laughed, eyes on him with a very pleased, mischievous glint to them, which quickly gave way to urgent desire as he put his mouth to use.

  
Erik rationally understood that it was a trick of nature, onyes’ juices were filled with pheromones that would keep their partner pliant during heat, but he wasn’t in heat now and he still couldn’t get enough. The taste of her slick, the noises she made when he plunged his tongue into her wet opening (interesting) and the tight grip in his hair when he sucked on the sensitive scape, desperate to get it all in his mouth. She groaned and Erik was hit by a wave of pleasure that let his spent parts twitch against the sheets. He threw her thighs over his shoulders, cupped her breasts with his large hands – they fit so perfectly – and made her moan with every nib to the scape, every thrust of his tongue. She came with Erik’s name on her lips and his hole clenched at the sound of it, sending delicious ripples through his lower body that were more than aftershocks.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day he tried to bring back the conversation to Emma Frost but a flurry of black leather and delicate gossamer wings distracted him before he could bring anything up at the breakfast table. Angel Salvadore was only the herald who carried the most important documents. Kitty was on her way with the rest, and should be in Westchester by late afternoon. His marriage was a merger of their hereditary lands and Erik still had to fulfil his old duties. Which after a month in the capital with only a limited exchange of letters was quite a pile of duties. Colonel Charlotte accompanied him to the little study prepared for him and not very subtly groped his left cheek with a smile before she left. Angel grinned widely.

“Nice to see you enjoying married life the way it should be enjoyed; and she’s not bad either. Kind of pretty. Big nose though, and that leg…” Angel thumped her fingers on the wooden secretary.

“Her nose is just right. And the leg did not keep her from defeating us, so I wouldn’t mock it.”

Angel looked startled for second but then bowed her head: “I would never think of it, my liege.”

Erik worked through his papers until his stomach growled and he cursed how used to the regular noble diet he had become. He grabbed some lunch and was about to return to his study when he saw the travellers riding up the hill to Westchester Castle.

“You are early.”

“And hello to you too, nice to see you again. The roads of Westchester are excellent and quite safe, no robbers in our way, sadly. There was no hold up at any point so lose that grumpy face because we’re here now!”

Kitty clearly trembled with anticipation to hug him, so Erik reluctant- and a little awkwardly let her, despite the many known and unknown faces looking on. She was still so short and unswervingly positive, it bordered on obnoxious.

Erik had missed it.

“When will I meet your new mate? I’m still angry I wasn’t invited to the wedding, so I demand to see her as quickly as possible.”

“I think that could be arranged.” Cain Marko’s giant frame had noiselessly appeared behind them and he invitingly showed them the way to the Great Hall.

Kitty’s new recruits obviously tried not to look too awestruck as they walked through the castle while she happily kept talking at a speed that would allow her to tell him everything that had happened in Genosha in the past few months, in under 3 minutes.

Colonel Xavier was in her high seat at the end of the hall, the spikey-haired captain of the guard Erik kept forgetting the name of by her side and currently said farewell to the last of her petitioners for the day. Her smile brightened when she saw them approaching and something pitter-pattered in Erik’s chest when he met her gaze.

“Erik…”

“My party has arrived. I should be fully set up in a day or two. Colonel Xavier, may I present you my Captain, Kitty Pryde. Kitty my lawfully wedded spouse.”  
Kitty took a deep bow.

“My liege…”

“Pleased to meet you, my dear. So you are the one my briefing referred to as Erik’s sibling?”

“Not by blood, my liege, well, not directly, but in spirit.”

Erik scowled. While it really wasn’t a big secret that he somewhat unfortunately cared for his Captain more than he’d cared for his own child, and that she enjoyed privileges that usually would be bestowed on a little sibling, he wondered what else that briefing might had said about him.

“Which is why I am deeply hurt that I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“Kitty! This is out of line!”

“But now that we’re all here, I propose to have another festivity. In the name of the joining of these two houses. I am sure your subordinates would enjoy that as well, my liege.”

Erik was terrified by her impudence and a little annoyed that she hadn’t asked him first and directly, but Charlotte Xavier laughed.

“Another celebration… and when do you suppose this should take place?”

“How about tonight? We had a long trip and my company and I could use a hefty dinner.”

Charlotte Xavier’s fingers played with the warm brass tip of her walking stick and she smiled.

“You shall receive the dinner. The plans for the celebration, I fear we’ll have to postpone, at least for a day, these are busy times. But I will have a talk with Sean and we’ll see if he can whip up something for tomorrow.

“Thank you, my liege.” Kitty bowed again, clicked her heels and walked out right through the closed door, turning Cain Marko’s eyes comically large and round.

“What a sweet child!”

“I do apologise, Colonel Xavier, I have allowed her a loose tone with me for too long, and as it seems she doesn’t know her place anymore. Insolence aside, she is a very capable Captain and a fearsome soldier as well. I recommend you not to part with her.”

“Oh, I know. My dear Emma had a rather interesting run in with her if I remember correctly. One that almost ended with her being stuck in wall.”  
The good old times of early negotiation. One of the reason he’d taken Kitty with him was that – as bright a sunshine she was under normal circumstances – the relentless and fierce she could be when it came to protecting and saving her friends and people. And since she had declared Erik both of the latter, Emma’s gibe about Erik’s alleged paranoia had not been well received.

“She deserved it.”

“Quite possibly.” Charlotte Xavier chuckled while the spikey-haired guard snorted in the background.

 

Erik spent the rest of the afternoon allotting his people to their new positions or their new temporary positions and finished his fifth, carefully worded letter of the day -- this time to the fisherman’s guild of Genosha -- before he tiredly went back to his shared room. He longed for some physical work or at least something that didn’t involve coming up with courtesies that he didn’t genuinely mean.

“I could help with that. Sorry, you were practically screaming. There is something I wanted to show you tomorrow and it might need your expertise.”

Charlotte Xavier brushed her hair, one parted half falling in cascades over her pale naked shoulder as if to tease Erik and he started to question his decision not to engage in anything sexual tonight.

They ended up wrapped around each other with her face deeply burrowed in his neck, breathing him in. Erik relished the warm weight at his side and for a while, as he caressed the velvety skin in the nape of her neck with his thumb, he thought of nothing.

But then his brain decided to break the silence and the relaxing lull and he asked:

“I’ve been wondering: I always thought that you and Her Highness were friends. But you make fun of her and she marries you off with bad intention. To someone she thinks whose powers and age will impede you.”

“She also thinks that your stubbornness and proclivity for impetuous decisions and fights will be quite irksome to me, not only your powers and less welcoming uterus.”

Erik scoffed. He would teach Her Iciness who made impetuous decisions and whose uterus was… But Charlotte Xavier just chuckled and nestled her head on his chest.

“She sees it as an obstacle, I see it as a challenge. One that I very much enjoy to be honest. I like you, Erik. I have for a long time. I’ve read about your undertakings and I found myself agreeing with a number of them. Some were ridiculously inane, of course, ah!” she put her finger to Erik’s lips when he tried to protest, “but I always felt good in you and that your heart is in the right place. So if we worked together I feel like we could bring some positive change to this world.”

Erik trailed his fingers over her arm and she hugged him closer.

“Maybe that was what gave her the idea at first, she always knew that I had a soft spot for you. And yes, she has been a good friend, for a very long time. We have been through so much together, it shapes you and forms you. I fully support her unification of the lands, time has proven that this is the best way to secure peace in all the counties for longer periods of time.”

The last part definitely was something Erik and his mate didn’t agree on, but she kept talking and Erik listened.

“However, she always failed to understand that we’re not driven by the same goals. I have never aspired to rule a realm. It’s true that I like to lead and guide people. I also love to meddle and I know everything better. I have been accused of this before by people I love dearly and you can ask around at this court and you will find many agreeing voices. This is a part of me and maybe a part of my gift as well, I just can’t help it, but I don’t want a throne and I certainly don’t want to put that burden on my children.”

She looked up, her eyes clear and deep.

“Do you?”

“Well, the throne is beautiful. It’s excellent woodwork, and if it got new upholstery…” He grinned a wide shark grin that apparently fascinated Colonel Xavier before he got serious:

“I thought of it a lot, and when I was younger I dreamed of it too. Defeat Shaw and take his place. Rule with an iron fist but be universally loved as well. It doesn’t work this way, I have learned ever since. People never truly love their dictators, they fear or tolerate them until someone better comes along. And as for leading, I have troubles bearing all the duties for a place as small as Genosha so I don’t even want to know how taxing the whole of Doresian would be.”

“It’s taxing because you care. If you didn’t you’d feel no obligation to do something and it would be easy work, even on the largest throne. This is a good sign.”

“Maybe. But all I want now is peace for my people at least, a chance for them to grow in numbers again and a future for Anya and the Calderash clan that is better than the past.”

Colonel Xavier carefully and slowly cupped his jaw and kissed the underside of his chin.

“So we do want the same thing then.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Erik didn’t want to leave the bed, not really, it was comfortable lying close to his mate and he could have stayed like this the whole day if duty hadn’t called in the form of Angel Salvadore, who reminded him to sit down, read and sign a new trader’s agreement on saddle leather, which would secure many families’ existences.

In the afternoon though, when the preparations for Kitty’s celebration were in full swing, Charlotte Xavier stopped by his study and asked him if he had time to come with her. Erik, the swirl of his last signature finished and the wax of the seal cooled down, followed her with relieved gratitude.  
They went to the cellars and further down in a part Erik definitely hadn’t seen before. His torch reflected on dark natural stone as they climbed down a long, long circular stair to a cave which had to be a part of the rock Westchester Castle was built on. It was perfectly round and at least fifteen feet high as he could see when Charlotte Xavier lit a ring of oil to illuminate their surroundings. Erik stretched his gift and was astounded by the unusually high concentration of the dark purple quartz in the walls and all the iron particles woven through the strands.

“What is this place?”

“The magic of Westchester Castle. Our well-kept secret.” She laughed without much humour and gestured around her.

“This is the place I was when I held Shaw’s guards still so Emma could ram a dagger into his throat. I held him too. I felt that bastard die all these miles away.”

Erik didn’t understand and watched his mate wide-eyed as she walked over to a chair in the centre of the room.

“My grandparent discovered this place 60 years ago. He was a high-level empath and while it didn’t work properly with his powers, he could see the potential. You felt the quartz in the stone? My parent, Hank and I have tried to understand how it works. We do better than my grandparent did, but we still have so many questions. But we do know that this cave enhances psionic gifts. At least the ones that run in the Xavier family. I can spread my gift over all of Doresian and much, much further. This allows me to see and influence the minds of people, miles away, on different continents even. I could contact Azazel now if you want to.”

“You killed Shaw like this?”

“Emma killed Shaw. But we used this, yes. I would have stopped Trask too, if I had learned his plans a little earlier. Logan warned me, he…”

“And only you can use this?”

“I don’t know. Emma can’t, and so can’t another telepath I know. But my children probably will be able to. Again, we don’t know how it works, but Hank has noticed that the iron in the quartz seems to have some effect. We realised this when we built some of the ventilation shafts. So I hoped that if you took a look at it and used your gift to influence the metal traces, we could learn more in a less invasive way… You wanted physical work. Here it is. Please, would you help me to better understand what I am doing here?”

Erik ran his fingers along the dry, dark wall, the mineral and the metal running through it singing to him like the choirs of legendary Rulers and Kings.

This was the tool that had brought Shaw down. The weapon. Right beneath his hands.

This was _who_ had brought Shaw down. He looked back to where Charlotte Xavier sat on the simple chair, feet square on the ground and her arms relaxed on the rests. Her hair was loose and fell over her shoulders in waves. She was so at ease in this place. She belonged here. No throne could have made her more regal in Erik’s eyes.

 

With a few steps he was in the middle of the room and on top of her. He crushed their mouths together, hungrily and desperate to feel more of her, to overwhelm her with his body and be one with her. He tore on his clothes angrily to get them out of the way while she watched slack-jawed, but when his belt didn’t cooperate and he was about to cut it in frustration she pulled him back into a deep kiss. It was teeth and ferocity but also exactly what he needed in that moment. Mouth on mouth, tongue to tongue there was a simple command in his head.

“ _Floor_.”

And Erik jumped down, finally shoving his trousers out of the way. The floor was pebbly and rough but she didn’t protest when he pushed her on her back and straddled her hips. Her warm flesh under his fingers, the metal of her necklace and her leg, her irresistible scent and those greedy noises escaping her parted lips as he worked her out of her trousers... He needed to have her now, wholly, and she complied. Erik’s eyes rolled back in his head when her heat pressed into him, his body opening up with ease. He bowed forward once again, his lips on hers – her breath on his, and her taste in his mouth before he locked his knees to her sides and moved his hips. The little jerks turned into a rocking motion that got harsher and quicker by the second, spurred by her hands which grabbed his hips and kneaded his cheeks, heightening the stretch and making him pant. He rode her, on the floor, hard and with a freeing recklessness that flooded his body just as much as the pure unadulterated arousal did, which sparked every time her scape hit him right inside. Their cries resounded in the cave and the need to come grew with every thrust and shove, until she let out a strangled noise, clawed her nails in Erik’s burning thighs and sent him over the brink with pain and blinding pleasure.

  
He didn’t know how long they stayed down on the floor, slowly disentangling but still trying to touch each other as much as possible. By the time they had cooled down from their second, slower and more sensuous round, the oil was almost used up and the flames were low. Charlotte’s teeth gleamed in the dimness, face only a few centimetres away from his.

  
“This was unexpected. I am definitely not complaining but this was a first; in many ways. May I ask what brought it on?”

  
Erik grinned and kissed those lush, sweet lips.

  
“Just the thought that in all her scheming and manipulative ways, Her Highness unwittingly has made a very right decision.”

  
They had to return to the castle at one point, maybe take a bath, or two, but when they climbed up the stairs unable to stop smiling and grinning they barely avoided the people gathering in the Great Hall. So instead of soaking gently in the large wooden tub that Erik burned to use, they ended up scrubbing each other hastily and patching up the little cuts on Charlotte’s back and Erik’s shins with a smelly, numbing ointment. They kissed, long, almost getting lost in it again before they dressed in untorn clothes and joined the party waiting for them.

  
After Charlotte had thanked everyone for coming to their relatively spontaneous dinner, they tore into the simple but delicious food. Erik admittedly was hungry and the cook with the red curls really had outdone himself tonight.

  
Kitty held a speech, thanking everyone very graciously and sweetly for indulging her this way and managed not to giggle when she toasted Colonel Xavier’s and Lieutenant Lehnsherr’s exciting new bond which they should explore and enjoy whenever and wherever they could. Some of the other guests openly cheered but Erik for once didn’t mind.  
Then the desks were pushed to the walls to make way for dance and music. Erik didn’t get up, he instead watched his beautiful, so incredibly powerful mate watch the young folk with so much warmth and content in her eyes, it reached right into Erik’s heart.

  
Together they could bring change, she thought. And Erik found that he thought so too.

  
By the time the music died down, Kitty was all but falling over a tall muscular guard and Cain Marko was joking with Logan over steins of beer. Erik reached out for Charlotte’s arm, thumbed the warm pulse point of her wrist and slid his large hand into hers. She took it, her strong small fingers intertwining with his and a smile bloomed on both their faces.

 

 

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely LOVED the prompt, thank you mistralle for coming up with it. (And thank you mod for assigning me this.) I could have written much much more in this verse and had SO many different ideas for where to take the story and how to develop Erik’s and Charlotte’s relationship in more ~~less fluffy~~ detail. 
> 
> Alas, time is fleeting and I am very slow so this got cut a little short in the end. I hope the story still makes sense and that you like it, my dear. <3


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